Glandris's Story
by phoenixrangers
Summary: The story of Grendel is well known, but where did he come from? Where did his mother come from. The origins of the beast from the fen.


**Glandris's Story**

Cold, damp, the world is a tomb where time has no meaning. Darkness presses in, forcing

away any trace of light and warmth. Oppressive silence sits heavily in the stagnant air. The

outside world does not exist in this harsh environment. An indefinable period of time passes

before a sound, very slight, yet as unexpected in the perfect stillness as to be perfectly audible, is

heard. A slight rasping sound, almost like scales on rock, could be heard. More rustling, followed

by a soft splash followed. This new sound was almost as unexpected as the first, and it brought

instant silence from the source of the noise. Nothing stirred until the faint noise of lapping waves

had faded into oblivion.

More noise came, followed by a second small splash. The pause this time was much

shorter than the first before the rustling grew louder. Claws clicked on bare stone as cramped feet

were stretched for the first time. The rustle of leather on leather preceded the first gust of wind to

move the still air for many long years. Joints popped and creaked as limbs that had lain dormant

for generations began to move. With a swift surge of motion the creature that had slept since the

dawn of the world stood up. The creature opened its mouth and produced a deafening, bone

chilling shriek. Echoes reverberated throughout the confined chamber long after the creature

itself had fallen silent, stunned by its own call. Driven by some unknown instinct, the creature

dipped its nose into the small pool of water. In a flash of coiled muscles the creature was gone,

disappearing into the bottomless pool of dark water. The waves subsided quickly, leaving the

cavern as still and silent as it had existed for millennium.

The creature was a blur of motion as it knifed through the water. Every twist and turn was

taken at breakneck speed, no hesitation given at a branching of the path. The creature just swam,

following an instinctive course through the labyrinth of passages created at the dawn of time.

The swift passage of the creature woke others from their slumber in the shadows. Together the

horde formed a great, roiling mass during the ascension from the abyss.

A hunter sat by the edge of a deep pool, waiting for fish to rise for the waiting spear. This

night the hunter acquired more than he had bargained for. A great shape erupted from the dark

depths of the fen, more horrible than any ever seen before on the earth. "At last, I am free!" the

creature shrieked into the fresh night air. "I am Glandris, the sinister fiend from the bowls of the

earth." Movement on the shore caught the evil creature's eye. The hunter had drawn a sword and

stood ready to challenge the nightmarish beast before him. Glandris struck at the brave hunter

without any warning. A blade fit for giants dropped to the rocky shore surrounding the pool, its

owner becoming the first meal for the tarn hag.

The presence of Glandris in the pool slowly corrupted the surrounding land. Lush green

forests soon became twisted skeletal trees and treacherous water traps. As the strongest fiend,

Glandris became the leader of the horde of serpents that had followed her up from below. Her

hoard grew from the single sword dropped by the unfortunate hunter to a wealth in treasure as

great warriors from across the land attempted to oust the water demon from her home and met

with a watery grave. Her home became a breeding place for sickness and death. When no

warriors returned from the lair of Glandris, the site was forgotten.

Many years later an outcast, a man ruined from murder wandered into the path of

Glandris. Sensing a kindred soul, the beast did not immediately kill the man. The two spent

much time together, and eventually a new atrocity sprang forth, the half man beast Grendel.

From that day on Glandris took a new name, the mother of Grendel. Cain perished by his son's

hand soon after. The two fearful demons lived in the fen for many years, attended on by the

grotesque serpents from the deep.

Grendel grew bored and lonely in the pool, so he departed to seek out others. He returned

to the fen with tales of wild battles and bodies to gorge from after his raids on the hall of Heorot.

One fateful night Grendel set off for another raid, unaware of the visitors to the hall.

Grendel's mother was counting the great hoard of treasure hidden in her cave beneath the

filthy water when a great commotion went up from the other beasts residing in the water. She

rushed from her lair to discover that her son had returned from his raid, mortally wounded. The

rage of Grendel's mother was beyond belief when she learned of her son's fate. The dark water

churned and frothed from deep within as she spent her rage. Several smaller serpents were torn

to shreds when they wandered too close during her mad ravings. Crushing sadness overwhelmed

Grendel's mother after her rage was spent. She retreated beneath the waves with her son's body

to dwell on her revenge.

The next night Grendel's mother rose from the fen with murder in her wicked heart. The

mead hall was brightly lit and full of joyous celebration over the death of her son. The mother of

Grendel struck when the fires had burned down and the warriors were in a heavy, mead induced

sleep. The warriors in the hall were roused quickly after the first victim was taken. Soon a ring of

broad shields and gleaming swords encircled the beast. Grendel's mother was not used to

fighting determined men. She had picked off lone challengers with little risk through her time in

the fen. Surrounded and baffled by the cacophony of noise, Grendel's mother felt the cold grip of

fear for the first time in her life. Taking her prize, she fled back to the dark waters of her home

with a scream of rage.

Grendel's mother watched from the depths of her watery home as the retinue of the king

arrived the next day. One warrior stood out to her immediately, tall and strong, he exuded

confidence and bravery. She was certain that this was the man responsible for the death of her

son. No passion or pity was shown when one of her underlings was dragged out of the water and

slaughtered by the warriors. She observed the powerful warrior preparing to assault her in the

deep waters of her home. The fool, believing that he could triumph over her here, at the very

heart of her home would be sadly mistaken.

Grendel's mother reached out and seized the great warrior as soon as he hit the water.

Despite her best efforts, the razor talons failed to pierce the shirt of steel-skin the warrior wore.

The other monsters inhabiting the gloomy depths swarmed the warrior after he had been dragged

to the lair of the great fiend. His swing at the monster had brought no harm. The skin of the great

beast turned aside the blade from the warrior's mighty swing.

The great warrior abandoned his sword after it failed to harm Grendel's mother. She had

a savage smile on her face when the warrior attacked her with no weapon. Using her great

strength gained from ages past, she overpowered the warrior and forced him to the floor. She

drew an ancient knife, wielded by some great prince long ago, and raised it high to end the life of

her opponent. The knife failed her after long years of service when it encountered the shining

mail protecting the great warrior. The blade twisted and snapped from the intended death stroke.

Her surprise allowed the warrior to regain his feet and grab a sword from the treasure

trove, the very same sword wielded by the unfortunate hunter on the day Grendel's mother rose

from the abyss. One swing of the colossal sword ended the struggle. The head of Grendel's

mother thudded to the ground, followed soon after by the corpse.

The great warrior severed the head of Grendel with the last stroke the great sword would

ever deal. The blade melted from the noxious blood of the monster. Lugging the proof of his

conquest, the great warrior returned to the surface with the trophies of his labor. Joyous

companions greeted him and traveled back to Heorot to celebrate with the good king Hrothgar.

The treasure amassed by the two demons remained rotting in the dark caverns along with the

bodies until all traces had been buried by the passage of time.


End file.
